New Year's Rockin' Eve
by BohemiaLMM
Summary: Happy New Year, everyone! A story focusing on four New Year's Eves celebrations, all about Roger. A short one shot to bring in the New Year, and it's ultimately slash. MarkRoger Rated for a few bits of profanity.


Disclaimer: Mark, Roger, Maureen, and every other Rent character and Rent setting are not mine. As we all know, they all belong to the brilliant mind of Jonathan Larson. Here's to you, Jon!

Author's Note: It's 11:03 pm here on New Year's Eve, and, like many others in the world, I'm watching the Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve, as I do every year. It just isn't the same with Regis as it is with Dick though … Anyways, I realized that I wanted a story to ring in the New Year with, and I haven't done any Rent slash for a while … So, here we go. A one shot featuring four different New Year's celebrations. The time frames are completely off the top of my mind, so bwah. :P Enjoy!

--

1994. It was Roger and April's one year anniversary together, New Year's Eve, and they wanted to celebrate it in a New York fashion. The world famous Time Square celebration was the perfect place.

April and Roger were up at eight in the morning. They had wanted to get there early, like other people who had the crazy idea of waking up early to get good spots, but April had spent ages in the bathroom. Roger had laughed about it on their way down town, had gotten a few bruises ("love punches" April had said they were), yet nothing could rain – or snow, if one were to be technical with the weather – on his parade. He was the happiest man on Earth.

Neither April nor Roger were surprised to see how many people had gathered already. In fact, April was amazed that it hadn't been filled already. Roger said that other people actually had common sense. He got another "love punch". What also amazed them was that they actually managed to stay there for so long. and not get bored and walk off. It was a bit rougher on Roger, though, he had to hold April up while she fell asleep again, but he didn't care. April looked like an angel when she slept, and he knew that he could've spent eternity just looking at her. All in all, Roger though it was a good day. But, the night was even better.

By the time there were only thirty minutes left to go until 1995 came around, Roger felt a surge of excitement run through him. The energy in Times Square was contagious, and the noise of the chattering crowd, combined with the amazing acts, was enough to make anyone jittery. He had seen a couple people that he knew, but didn't go and talk to them for fear of losing April in the crowd. Besides, he was content where he was. His eyes closed, and he let out a happy sigh as he rested his chin on April's shoulder. Heaven on Earth …

"Maureen!"

April's shout made Roger snap his head up.

"Maureen!" April repeated. She nudged a woman who was standing close on the shoulder. "I don't even get a hi?"

Maureen turned around, pushing her curly brown hair out of her face.

"April!" Maureen squealed. She hugged her friend. "How are you? I didn't expect to see you here!"

"Likewise," giggled April. "You remember Roger, right, Maureen?" She pulled the blonde musician closer to her friend.

Roger looked at Maureen and nodded his greeting to her. He hadn't really talked to her, but he'd heard enough to make him not like her. Maureen, on the other hand, looked at Roger, ran her eyes over him, smiled flirtatiously, and giggled. Yes, Roger had heard right about her.

"Of course I remember Roger," Maureen replied, "how could anyone forget him?" A slightly seductive spark gleamed in her eyes. "This is my boyfriend, Mark, by the way." Maureen pulled a man with glasses, and short, floppy brown hair forward.

"Ah, so this is the infamous Mark Cohen. I'm April Hughs." April held out her hand.

"Uh … Hi," Mark said as he shook her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Same to you. Mark, this is Roger."

Roger looked over Mark and held out his hand.

"Hi."

"Er … Hi." Mark was obviously nervous.

Roger looked over Mark once more. He wasn't much of a social person, obviously. The boy seemed nervous and jittery (and not in the excited way), and he didn't quite look at Roger when he introduced himself. Roger also noted that Mark had a camera. But, what really struck Roger, was Mark's eyes. They were a brilliant green, and the musician had to tear his own eyes away so Mark wouldn't think he was a psycho or something.

"Well, what time did you two get here?" asked Maureen. She always needed some sort of conversation going.

"Around 10 I think. Right, Roger?" April looked at her boyfriend with a frown.

"Yeah … Sounds about right," Roger agreed. He looked at April, a mental image of Mark's eyes still flashing in his mind, and grinned easily. "It would've been earlier if you hadn't spent so much time in the bathroom this morning."

April love punched him, and laughed.

"As if! You spent more time in the bathroom than I did." She looked at Mark and Maureen. "He's such a girl sometimes."

Roger went to object, but he never had the chance. A sudden commotion flared up in the large gathering of people as the final minute was upon them. April flashed him a large grin and he, in turn, wrapped his arms around April. It seemed to take no time at all for that last second to pass, and, keeping with traditions, Roger pulled April close to him and kissed her. It was a good New Year's Eve.

--

1999. It was Roger's first New Year's Eve alone for six years. He pulled on a sweater, his jacket, some gloves, his scarf, and grabbed a large sleeping bag that the snow wouldn't seep through it. Without saying anything to the group of his friends that were gathered in the loft shared by him and Mark, he made his way up the fire escape and to the roof. All he wanted was to be alone.

Mark watched Roger with a look of concern. Roger was isolating himself from the world again. It was only to be expected, though, but the filmmaker was thankful that Mimi's death hadn't struck Roger as hard as April's had. Still, it seemed as though the guitarist had only said enough words to create two sentences in the past three months. He had stopped eating as much, started staying in his room unless he had to leave, and it was reflecting in his appearance. Mark started to walk after him.

"Leave him alone for a while, Mark," Collins said. He placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, and looked at him with a calm, yet serious, look. "He needs some time to himself tonight."

"Tonight?" Mark looked bewildered. "Collins, he's had three months to himself! I'm worried about him."

"We all are, Mark. But let him reflect. New Year's Eve is a time to think about the year that just passed, and a time to think about what he's doing in the year to come. He's made it through a time like this before. He'll do it again."

"But last time he had Mimi!" It was obvious that Mark was going to be stubborn about this.

"No, he had good friends," Collins replied. "Friends like you who didn't give up on him, but let him have his space. He needs you to do that again."

Once again, Collins had driven his point home and Mark knew there was no sense in arguing. He just nodded and went over to get something drink.

"Hey!! Ten seconds everyone!" Maureen announced. "Get over here, quick!" He pulled Mark over to her so he was in the group.

"Five – Four – Three – Two – One! Happy New Year!" the all chorused.

"Welcome to the new millennium, my friends!" Benny exclaimed cheerfully as he raised his glass.

Up on the roof, Roger watched as sky lit up with the fireworks from Times Square, and he heard his friends in the loft cheering. Sighing, he looked up at the sky.

"Happy New Year …"

--

2001. Roger laughed with his friends as the New Year approached. It was a special sort of celebration this time, though, as all those lost in the 9-11 incident were in everyone's mind.

Roger had still been a bit secluded until that moment. Sure, he talked to everyone and joined in on things every now and then, but it wasn't until he had nearly lost his best friend on that fateful day that he realized he had to shape up and be himself again.

He could still remember the way his stomach tightened and his head spun when he saw the first plan collide with the World Trade Centre. His first thought was of Mark, who was off there filming something for one of his new films. Mark, and his shy smile. Mark, who was always there when no one else was. Mark, who knew exactly what to do in every situation. Mark, with those brilliant eyes. Mark, who Roger had just realized at that moment that he loved.

And Roger remembered that he bolted from the loft, and ran ten blocks to Collins house. He knew he wouldn't get anywhere near the World Trade Centre, but Collins would know what do. Collins had answered the door only to meet the musician in a fit of hysterics. It seemed to take ages to calm Roger down, but he managed it. He walked Roger home, so he was there when Mark returned, and stayed with the guitarist.

When Mark walked into the loft, Roger practically pounced on him. He didn't care that Mark looked so shocked that he'd pass out at any moment, nor did he care that Mark looked more than surprised at the sudden attack. All that Roger cared about was that Mark, his best friend, the object of his newfound love, was alive and alright. He wasn't sure how long he held Mark, cried into his shoulder, or said that he was sorry for everything. But he did.

So here they were. The seven of them together for the 2001 New Year's Eve. Roger's New Year resolution? To tell Mark. Finishing off his beer, Roger looked at Mark for a moment, making sure Mark saw him, then went up on to the roof. Mark looked around, and followed Roger. He was immediately greeted by a tight hug from Roger.

"Mark … This is all going to sound very cliché, but I want you to listen to every word of it, alright?" Roger voice was quiet, but he spoke right into Mark's ear.

Mark could only nod. He figured Roger was just suffering from too much to drink, so he'd let him talk. Roger was no pleasant if you pissed him off while he was drunk.

"Ok … So … Here's the story. I don't know if it was when I first met you, way back in 1994, but, well, I just realized it. In September. God, Mark, I was so fucking worried." Roger tightened his grip on Mark. "But … I remember … When I first met you. Your eyes … They were just … I can't say anything to justify them … But … After I was out of rehab, every time I thought of doing something, I just remembered seeing those eyes … And I remembered seeing how angry and crushed they'd get when I'd come home stoned and shit. And I couldn't do it, you know? And, when the Trade Centre went down … I was so fucking scared. I thought you weren't going to come back. I thought you were going to die … And it scared me. And I realized … I think I love you, Mark."

Mark was now definite that Roger was drunk. And he was vaguely aware of his shoulder becoming wet. And it was cold out.

"Rog … I think you've had a bit too much to drink," Mark said cautiously. "Let's go back inside … It's cold out and we could get sick."

Once again, Roger tightened his grip on Mark.

"No … I'm not drunk. I didn't want to be drunk, because, I knew I wouldn't be able to say that. And, I'll keep you warm. Don't worry."

There was a loud cheer from the loft, and all of New York lit up with celebration. This was his chance, and Roger was not one for breaking tradition. He brought his head to Mark's and kissed the filmmaker. It wasn't a demanding kiss, but it seemed as though Roger had something to prove. Mark just blinked. Roger's lips were warm, and the warmth spread through him. He didn't even know what he was doing when he kissed the musician back.

Roger pulled apart, a spark in his eye that hadn't been there since his carefree days, since before he got AIDS and became a smack addict.

"Happy New Year, Mark."

--

2004. Roger leaned over a sleeping Mark, a large grin gracing his face. It had been ten years ago that he met Mark, and it was then that his life started going in the right direction. He was going to make this a special day.

"Marky," Roger said in his lover's ear. "Wakey wakey." He poked Mark.

"Roger …?" Mark said sleepily. He opened his eyes, put on his glasses, and checked the clock. "It's 8:30 in the fucking morning. It's too early to screw again."

Roger laughed.

"That's not why I woke you up, although it is a good idea …" He grinned slyly, then kissed Mark. "Get up, babe. We've got a long day ahead of us." He was gone before Mark could protest.

At 9:15, Roger was walking with Mark to a cute little café close to Times Square. He ushered Mark inside, and got them a little breakfast. Mark found this behavior to be a bit odd for Roger, and his mind was immediately ser to figuring out exactly what Roger wanted. Mind you, he wasn't complaining. This café had good coffee, and good food. Once breakfast was done, Roger got them both coffees to go, and dragged Mark to the spot where people were already gathering for the New Year celebration.

"Roger … What are we doing here so early?" Mark frowned and looked around.

"Well, we want good spots, don't we?" Roger handed Mark his coffee, and wrapped his arms around the filmmaker's waist. "If you want, you can go back to sleep. I'll hold you up."

Mark just laughed, and leaned back against Roger. The two started talking, and people started grouping up, and soon the count down was five minutes away.

"Remember, Mark?" Roger asked him. "This is where we met … Ten years ago. It's a special occasion. And our five year anniversary." He nuzzled Mark.

"So it is," Mark said, his voice laced with happiness.

The excitement that Roger loved getting started coursing through his body. He loved being there around people from all over. It was a thrill, almost, and he was spending it with the best person he could possibly think of. Mark was even more perfect than both April and Mimi put together. He rested his head on Mark's shoulder as everyone counted down, and, as soon as the ball finished dropping, he spun the smaller man around and kissed him.

Mark broke away laughing, his emerald green eyes shining with a mix of happiness, excitement, and, of course, love. Roger smiled. Mark's laugh was the only sound he could hear in all the noise of the celebrators, and those eyes, the ones that captured him ten years before, had done it again. Roger was officially the happiest man New York had ever seen, and no day of the year would ever top New Year's Eve.

* * *

Author's Note: Wooo!!!! Welcome to 2005, everyone! ::_parties_:: 


End file.
